


No Touching

by missditsydarcy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Couch Cuddles, Fluff and Angst, I'll just leave this here, M/M, Mpreg, Sleepy Cuddles, also Lance is really more implied and so are the rest but lol anyway, ya girl's at it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missditsydarcy/pseuds/missditsydarcy
Summary: As crazy as it sounds, if Keith could relate to anything else in the world, it would be art museums—just, not for what one would think.He’s not artistic, he isn’t in any sort of way a work of art—he isn’t quiet and refined, and whilst he can be boisterous and outspoken, even this isn’t what draws Keith to the idea. It all comes down to two simple words; two words that relay his heart song for the past nine months as if they were created just for him.‘Don’t touch...’~~~In which Keith is rather territorial, and Shiro once again breaks down his walls... <3





	No Touching

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see!!   
> This was a prompt from one of my friends that I filled on tumblr that I just thought I would share with you all.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

As crazy as it sounds, if Keith could relate to anything else in the world, it would be art museums—just, not for what one would think.

He’s not artistic, he isn’t in any sort of way a work of art—he isn’t quiet and refined, and whilst he can be boisterous and outspoken, even this isn’t what draws Keith to the idea. It all comes down to two simple words; two words that relay his heart song for the past nine months as if they were created just for him.

_‘Don’t touch...’_

Keith remembers very clearly the first time he was drawn to these words, a late spring evening, crouched over in the corner of the bathroom with a pregnancy test in hand—trying so desperately to escape his mind palace as Takashi Shirogane steps in closer for a better look…

The second time wasn’t long after, a spring afternoon when they’d first met the soul who was going to be responsible for bringing their new life into the world. Jennifer Klaussen, a petite woman not much older than Keith himself—who could almost out-spunk a Holt—barging into the room after Keith had just changed into the provided gown and proceeded to try and stick…something where it _definitely_ didn’t belong…a practice that she seems drawn to, even to today.

The third time was a summer night after he’d first began sporting a genuine ‘bump’, when Lance and his other friends were too keen acquainting their selves with the Paladin’s newly acquired proturbance, much to his own chagrin. He’d near hissed when his Cuban friend had attempted to touch even after he’d expressed his desires to be left alone.

The fourth and so on could have been directed to strangers on the street who were so hellbent on feeling ‘ _the miracle of life_ ’, or to family who just wanted to share the moment with them—but lately, especially once he crossed over into the third trimester of his pregnancy, it’s been directed at the very same man that he also wanted the exact opposite of, and some forty-eight days into this drought of contact was doing more than a little damage to Keith’s wellbeing and mental state…

After all, what’s an art museum without its exhibitionist??

“No, not yet,” Keith hears Shiro announce into his phone that rang precisely at the moment that he was offering to be leverage for Keith to lower his very pregnant body onto the couch (a notion to which he waved off fervently) while the other man goes to start making dinner, most likely, “I tried telling him that threatening his doctor with his Bayard for offering to sweep his membranes was a little extreme…”

Keith rolls his eyes, trying to straighten out his legs on the couch—swollen ankles aching just as much as his back and his chest, along with the pangs of movement from the life within him. He positions his trusty ‘pregnancy pillow’ in between himself and the back of the furniture, leaning heavily on it as he sulks while watching the world move about around him so he could tune everything else in his reality out while he tries to prepare for what is to come—because of course  a portly woman walking a poodle with an impressive nest of fur that almost made it look like a hairstyle, and a little girl skipping about with a lollipop stick sticking out of her mouth was a much more desirable reality to him than anything else he could think of in the moment.

No more timing contractions—which weren’t any more regular at forty-two weeks than they were last week—or having to hear the slight disappointment in his husband’s voice when someone calls to ask if the baby’s come yet. No more watching the life in Takashi’s eyes when Keith begs him to just ‘stop talking’ to the baby when he’s trying to sleep—no more sleepless nights because of pain and being just plain uncomfortable. He can’t remember the last time he had a full night’s sleep, and though he realizes that it has nothing to do with Shiro talking to their child in-utero, he just can’t bring himself to apologize in the moment.

Everything really…makes Keith feel like he’s done something wrong—that somehow he has created such an ecosystem inside of him that for whatever reason their daughter would rather stick around there, in the cramped and tiny, probably smelly, vestal than to come out into the real world for an adventure of a lifetime with first time parents.

Keith lets out a deep breath, hand smoothing over the hard surface of his stretched skin, breath catching as he’s assaulted with the all-too familiar throes of his already drum-tight abdomen contracting in preparation for the upcoming event of birth. He grips the cushion under him, grasping desperately at the fabric on the back of the couch next to him—closing his eyes as he remembers, practically seeing Shiro standing in front of him telling him to breathe, before he opens his eyes again and fixates them on the armrest on the other side of the couch, breathing deeply even through his body’s vehement protest to shrivel up when faced with such adversity.

And, before he knows it he’s slumped over against the couch, panting as his neckline glistens with unmerited sweat while Keith lets out a low whine of disapproval just in time for Shiro to resurface in his central vision.

“Another one?” Takashi asks, his eyebrows knitted in concern as a hand reaches out to rest on his husband’s knee, before he remembers the mantra. ‘ _Don’t touch_ ’. “Number five,” he announces, making a note of it on his cellphone before taking another quick glance at Keith, who has thrown his head back with a grunt of confirmation while he continues to grip his stomach like he was expecting an aftermath.

“I think it scares her,” Keith says, voice low and strained as he cringes, feeling nearly every pang of foot and fist inside of him. He bites his lip and drapes his free arm over his eyes as he tries to relax against the furniture, other hand fervently rubbing the expanse of his distended belly—letting out almost a sigh of relief as he can fully relax again, the exercise complete. “Whenever it happens my heart starts pounding, and after it’s over she’s throwing punches like she’s demanding information…”

“I don’t blame her,” Shiro says, chuckling a bit as he glances at Keith and then the temporary home of his daughter, kneeling in front of both of them when Keith’s hand sticks out in invitation—the Paladin then guiding his commander’s hand to rest on said home to really illustrate the point. “We’re all a little…” he takes a deep breath, cheeks inflaming just a tic when he feels a kick of affirmation. “Inexperienced to take on this mission on our own…”

“When has that ever stopped us?” Keith croons, cocking his head off to the side as his hand moves from Shiro’s to rest on his shoulder instead, chuckling a little at Shiro’s nod as Keith makes the split second decision to begin squirming into a sitting position, grabbing hold of Shiro’s  hands to pull him to sit next to him on the couch—then closing the space in between them and sealing it with a kiss before he relaxes against his husband like even this activity has sapped him of his energy.

“It’s almost…worse knowing that it’s coming, isn’t it??” Keith says after a moment of silence, his free hand rubbing his stomach up and down, smiling at the jabs of acknowledgment from their little girl within. “Like, these contractions are already bad, but—it’s gonna get worse, and it’s going to get worse within twenty-four hours…”

He feels Shiro nod as he rests his head atop Keith’s, Shiro squeezing his hold on the other man’s shoulder like it was a hug that he couldn’t quite carry out in their proximity, like it was a secret between the two of them that they felt the same.

It’s not like they didn’t know it was coming; they knew that eventually the baby would have to be born, they just didn’t expect Keith’s doctor to waltz in one day, telling the two expectant parents that they were going to ‘ _get the show on the road_ ’ if the baby didn’t initiate it before forty-three weeks—and here they are the eve before, just back from an appointment confirming the plan for an induction tomorrow morning.

“You’ll do great,” Shiro says weakly, after a few moments in understood silence. “Like, I know that sounds cheesy, but, if anyone can do it, you can, Keith. You’re strong, and so determined—I get a feeling that’s something she inherited from you.”

“Yeah well I take it back,” Keith adds, chuckling wetly as he wipes chaste moister from his eyes, quickly, even though he doesn’t care if Shiro sees this kind of emotion emitting from him at this point. “The last thing I need is for my own daughter to put up a fight to not leave my body…”

“Hey, I would kind of take that as a compliment,” Takashi laughs as their fingers intertwine at the base of Keith’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of understanding, that he really has no idea what Keith is going through, and that it’s okay, he’s okay, and everyone’s okay.

“You can do it next time, then—”

Shiro’s eyes widen, a blush searing through his cheeks as he comes to terms with what his husband just said, even if he was only playing along. A warmth spreads through his chest as he thinks about their family that’s already growing, growing again—the notion that Keith is already thinking about it too, maybe, just maybe…

“A-absolutely,” the older man breathes, sounding ever breathless as he feels his love’s body relax even deeper against him. “I would do anything for you, Keith; it would be my honor…”

“Don’t make it weird,” comes Keith’s lazy reply quite belatedly, a yawn escaping his lips as he succumbs to his fate—that though twenty-four hours ago he barely let Shiro touch him, he’s now inches away from his face and he’s so tired that he doesn’t even have the ability to be mad about it.

“Right, sorry,” Shiro says, cheeks still red as ever while he turns his attention back to their budding life that somehow ended up between them as Keith’s body turns involuntarily towards his husband’s heat, arms draped lazily around Shiro’s neck and head resting against Shiro’s bicep as Takashi helps Keith stretch his legs over and onto his lap as he grabs the blanket folded near the other end of the couch, just for this purpose. “There we go,” he coos, hand resting on Keith’s stomach as Keith snuggles against him even closer. “That’s my girl, she’s so calm now, isn’t she?”

“ _Mhm_ ,” Keith mumbles, yawning as he nestles his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck, allowing his eyes to droop closed. “She knows that you’re here, and when you’re here, everything’s okay…”

“Yes, that’s it,” Shiro near whispers, talking to the both of them, but realizing that his husband’s consciousness is fading. “I’m here, even if you can’t feel me…”

“Me too…” Keith says lethargically, falling into a sound sleep moments later,

Shiro smiles, tears prickling his eyes just a bit while he scoops up his husband and daughter, carrying them to the bedroom and resting them gently on the bed with the same blanket still draping over Keith’s lower half. He carefully lifts the blanket over Keith, planning to make a move back out the door so they can sleep in peace, when Shiro feels a tug on his sleeve.

Eyes slit open, Keith stares back at him with a rather drunken smile on his lips.

“Where’re you going?” the pregnant one asks quietly, watching his husband intently as Takashi sputters, suddenly awestruck like he’s been asked a series of unrelated questions.

“K-Keith, I thought—” the Paladin shakes his head against his pillow.

“No, please,” the pregnant one whispers. “Stay. _Please stay_ …”

Immediately, Shiro chokes back his emotion as Keith says words that hold more meaning for the couple than they’d like to admit as Shiro climbs into bed beside his husband, wrapping his arms around him and peppering his neck, cheeks and all with kisses until he falls back to sleep again.

Maybe, Keith thinks—chest warm with affections and belonging—just before slipping away into unconsciousness again, that he’s not so much like an art gallery after all. Maybe he’s not so horrible, that he’s ready to meet his baby, and perhaps he didn’t do anything wrong—

At least, not when it concerns Shiro; which is all that really matters in the end, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on tumblr: www.l1nkp1t.tumblr.com


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